The boys and I are home. Not going to church. My wife is off to work (church). Both of them are sick. The oldest, almost 3 years old, woke up twice last night, which is rare. I woke up this morning really really tired. I’ve got some work to do today, but that won’t really get started until my wife gets back.
The three of us are hanging out in the guest room/office. PJ morning, and so far, things have been going pretty well. I don’t get a ton of down time to just PLAY, so the last thing I want to do it be impatient with them when we are hanging out.
The 2 year old is way beyond his years, and it’s occasionally hard not to think of him and treat him like he’s older. The younger one, especially when sick, lets out this whine/cry that is like a tortured feline. Right to the head.
So, the oldest keeps inching closer and closer to the younger one, actually trying to be nice, but the younger one doesn’t quite want his space invaded. This, of course, is perceived as a challenge by the oldest, who’s going to have his younger brother receive his hug!
After numerous soft reminders to “be gentle” and “let him have his space,” I’m feeling like someone’s being a punk. He barely knocks the younger one over who starts the waaaaiiiiling. I’m about to get really firm.
A deep breath. The thought that this is almost-a-3-year-old wanting to connect with his brother. Bigger battles to fight (likely in the next 30 minutes!).
“Please, next time, when your brother wants some space, let’s give it to him.”
A small moment to be aggressive, to impinge on the play. Avoided. It’s hard. There’s the desire to protect, yet also to teach, let them figure it out themselves, and so on.
But I’m glad I was able to shift. It’s hard, but it can be done.